


i was a billion little pieces til you pulled me into focus

by tarm



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Songfic, well they love each other and even death cannot do them apart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22683199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarm/pseuds/tarm
Summary: love that transcended death
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 10
Kudos: 88





	i was a billion little pieces til you pulled me into focus

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by 
> 
> sleeping at last — venus  
> elton john — blue eyes
> 
> dean-charles chapman does have blue eyes ❤️
> 
> русская версия — https://ficbook.net/readfic/9056558/

blue eyes laughing in the sun  
laughing in the rain  
baby’s got blue eyes  
and i am home again

Will staggers to a tree standing nearby and falls, looking up and facing the sun. He can stop and take a deep breath at last, and his hand wanders off in the direction where the other one used to be but now there is nothing. 

  
Will held _his_ hand only once: hopelessly squeezing it, small and drowned in his fingers and blood, and barely keeping it together tried to comfort _him_. He intertwined their fingers, caressing _his_ thump with his own, for they were both scared. 

Scared, because that was it.

That was it, they would never see each other again.

And he held _his_ hand, he held _him_ this close for the first and the last time, and, bloody hell, how unfair this is. 

_He_ never made it home, never saw _his_ brother and never got to know that Will died there with _him_.

  
Will ran, fell down, got back up, drowned, got up again, because he had to deliver the order, but now, now when everything is over and he’s all alone, he is not sure he can get up. 

  
But the sun still shines. 

***

The sun shines right on his face, when Will struggles to wake up.

Again, he dreamt of war, death, _Tom_. 

Will hates this dream. Hates the feeling of emptiness and devastation it leaves. He sees the same thing almost every night for half a year now — since the beginning of 2017 — and it hurts like hell. He tries to warn Tom, say something, take his hand _before_ all of that terror and blood, but it feels as if he is watching a film. 

A memory. 

He plays a part and watches it at the same time and there is no way for him to change even a second of it all. 

The only thing he can do is pay all his attention to Tom, remember his jokes and glances, desperately reach out when there is nothing but void and hope that one day he would stay by his side. 

  
Will has always known he loves _him_. 

Ever since he was a kid he has felt infinite overwhelming love, he just didn’t know for who at that time. The vague silhouette has become clearer and clearer each day, and now Will finally remembers his name. 

Thomas Blake. 

And what a great amount of efforts it takes not to immediately search the name on Facebook. 

Will could have done it, sure — how easy is seems: just find him on social media and here he is — but Will is too afraid. Afraid that he made it all up, that since the very childhood it was all his imagination (at best). 

(He tries not to think about the worst.)

What are the chances that he actually does remember the past? That it is actually the past? That Tom Blake existed then and exists now? That it is all real and not just Will falling down to madness? 

Damn little they are. 

And he just clings on to hope. 

  
He burns with Tom. 

He carries this feeling with him his whole life as if he was born full of love but with a hole in his chest. And slowly he returns everything that died _that_ day to where it belongs. 

His mother always wondered why he never fell in love, why he always drew an abscure image of a person and war, why he grew more and more pensive each year and drifted away.

  
It is simply because part of Will’s heart belongs to the past. 

To the past that is desperately trying to become present.

  
And the sun still shines right in Will’s eyes.

***

The sun shines right in Will’s eyes, and he squints, covering his face with his palm, when he catches loud «To-o-om! Wait!» somewhere around him.

He got used to ignoring this kind of things, because it is incredibly hard to keep believing, but when someone accidentally pushes him while passing by, and Will glances at the person, something inside him breaks.

The face is terribly familiar, but even though he has seen it hundreds of times, it takes him a couple of seconds to match wavy reddish hair that are pulled back, raspberry-coloured T-shirt, dark shorts, trainers and a cocktail that nearly got spilled on Will, with dirt on the face he once saw, tangled hair, a tired look and bedraggled military uniform. 

And Will rushes after. 

  
He barely avoid crushing into Joseph when he suddenly stops near an empty bus station. There is no one around, and Will immediately catches sight of _him_. 

And _he_ instantly notices him. 

  
“Will?”

  
Tom looks at him not quite believing that all of this is real, for he no longer even dared to hope to see Will one day, and now he cannot fully grasp _who_ is before him. He studies Will for a few seconds, smiles as he looks at the disheveled curly hair, lighter and longer than he remembered (since now they aren’t told to cut it as short as possible), glances at loose livid turtleneck, tucked in dark blue velvet trousers, and derby shoes, and stands, mouth agape, not knowing if he can trust his eyes, if he can believe that this is actually happening. 

Will is sure his face is exactly the same right now. They knew one another only in military uniform, only terrified and worn out, and died in each other’s arms the last moments they were together, so seeing that they are both safe and sound, able to smile and feel, and knowing that they won’t be send to die any second, noticing bracelets on Tom’s wrists when he fixes his hair, an unbuttoned shirt worn over a T-shirt and tucked in tight black knee-ripped jeans, and rainbow sneakers — it is unbelievable. 

Will wasn’t certain that this moment would ever come, but now, now he rushes to Tom and holds him, embraces him as tightly as possible and Tom reaches out to him, too. 

  
“A friend of yours?” Joseph looks at them surprised, and Tom explains:

“In a way, yes. We haven’t seen each other in ages. _Literally_.”

  
The Sun smiles at his own joke and at Will. 

***

The Sun smiles at Will and gets blankets for them so that they could sit in the Blakes’ backyard. 

It is late in the evening and pretty cold for the middle of spring. Tom sits so close to Will that there is no place between them, and Will wraps his arm around Tom, because he _literally_ waited a century for this moment and now doesn’t want to waste even a second. 

“You made it, right?” Tom turns to him and smiles: he still believes in him, and the flames inside Will burn anew, even brighter. “How did you like Joe? You did meet him then?”

Will nods. 

“I gave him your belongings and I… I don’t really remember what happened after.”

He looks up, to the skies, and Tom reaches for Will’s hand that he unconsciously draws patterns on his trousers with, and Tom’s hand is lost in Will’s again. 

“I fell in a river, you know. When I was really close to the destination, I fell and I reckoned that I wouldn’t make it, that I’d drown but then… then I saw cherry blossom. White petals clinging to me and I though of you, that you were still there, with me, no matter what…”

Will stops, gathering his thoughts, and suddenly it is as if a dam holding his feeling collapses. 

“I thought… I thought I would never see you again. Goddammit, I’ve always known I love you, and I was so desperate because I didn’t believe I would ever find you once more… I—” Will is experiencing too much and too strong, and no word can these feelings in its cage contain, and Tom catches Will’s tears, squeezing his hand tighter. 

“I know… I felt the same.”

  
They hug under free sky for the first time, for the first time touch each other’s hands, lips, cheeks and necks and do not fear noises and metal claws fettering the skies. 

Will caresses Tom’s hair and finally properly calls him beautiful which makes Tom laugh and Will fully understand _how much_ they missed each other. 

  
They spend the whole night like this: in each other’s arms and talking, for, despite everything, they found each other again, and a hundred years that it took them doesn’t seem long now. 

  
The flames inside Will will never go out because his Sun is with him.

  
The Sun that quietly falls asleep on his shoulder and refuses to let go of his hand. 


End file.
